


The Witch and the Sprite

by DawnDoe



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, Frost Sprite, Frostbite, Magic, Magical Creatures, Vampire Satya "Symmetra" Vaswani, Witch Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, frostbite pharah
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-12-10 06:40:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11686137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnDoe/pseuds/DawnDoe
Summary: Angela, a witch living her life peacfully on a hilltop, finds Fareeha, a hurt frost sprite. Taking her home with her to treat her wounds she soon ends up being pulled into the scheming of two opposing forces and the beginning of a war, all while haunted by her past and dealing with a not so compliant sprite.





	1. First days of spring

**Author's Note:**

> I know where I want to go with this story but I don't know how it will turn out. There may be fights, deaths, war or some Pharmercy, depends how I want to write this. At this point I am not sure but I will add the tags along the way.  
> I hope you can still enjoy it :)

The first days of spring came with the promise of a lush and hot summer. The birds filled the still cold air with the sounds of chatter and wakeup calls. The sky was clear and blue, not one cloud was to be seen and the sun stood high sending her first warm rays to the earth, melting the remaining snow patches, helping the flowers break through.

Angela was strolling through the woods, collecting the first snowdrops breaking through the snow that still covered the earth like a soft blanket under the protecting shadows of the trees. The world was silent in the middle of the hills, branches rusting in the wind, freeing themselves of the last snow.

It was unusually warm for the beginning of march, the temperatures had been rising quickly the last days, forcing the wildlife out of hibernation. Single blades of grass already broke through the ground, creating small green sparks and patches in the otherwise grey woods. 

Angelas steps were light on the thawing ground, leaving small footsteps in the soft snow and earth. Winter was a boring time for witches. The most interesting things to deal with were the people from the village in the valley next to her little house at the rim of the forest, coming to her for remedies against the common cold or cuts. They had been lucky this winter with no injuries or serious sicknesses. 

They would have liked Angela to life with them in the village since she had cared for the generations before them since she had come to the village and she was well known and adored by the people that lived there. They had offered her a house more than once over the generations but she preferred to live near the nature that offered and provided her all the things she needed to live and care for the village. 

A slight smile crossed her lips thinking of the people, always inviting her to their family dinners, festivals and holidays. The invites had even gone so far to invite her to church besides them being aware that she followed other believes. Another snowdrop found its way into her basket, its white blossom caressing her fingertips as if to thank her for picking it. Soon everything would stand in full bloom, giving her plenty of opportunities and resources to fill up her stash of herbs and other ingredients for her remedies. She had renounced everything else but healing as a witch, knowing what vast power could do to herself.

A rustling accompanied by a whimper caught her attention, distracting her from another patch of snowdrops, leading her steps away from the forest path she had been following and towards a small clearing which would be filled with forget-me-nots in a few weeks. Peeking around a tree her eyes searched the clearing for the source of the sounds but other than a squirrel sleepily looking out of its nest it was empty. The snow had been completely melted by the sun leaving the grass covered in a thin sheet of water, glistening and wet. 

Stepping out into the sunlight her eyes searched the shadows around the edge of the trees, the whimpering had been replaced by forced breathing, barely hearable, accompanied by pained moans. It sounded human and made Angela worry, that one of the villagers had been attacked by a wolf or something. They were dangerous after the winter on their hunt for food and protective of their pack. 

“Hello? Do you need help?”

The moaning stopped followed by the sound of someone shifting, assumingly trying to hide, then silence. Crossing the opening, Angela searched for the person, certain that he or she was in need of help but too afraid to come out. Maybe they had been attacked by bandits? There hadn’t been bandits in the hills for years but still – 

Slowly walking around an old tree her eyes widened in surprise as she found the source of the noises. Between the large roots of the old tree cowered a frost sprite. It’s skin greyish blue, hair dark black with eyes the colour of ice. It raised its head. It was a female sprite, staring at her, backing back against the tree, raising one hand as if to keep her away. Her other hand was cramped around her waist, covering a spot of deep blue blood soaking its way through her clothes, the remains of an arrow still sticking out of her side.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I am here to help.”

Carefully Angela came closer, reaching out with her bare hands to show she had no means of hurting or attacking.

“Don’t touch me, human.”, her voice was rasp and cold, ridden with pain: “You will freeze to death the instant you touch me.” Another kind of pain seemed to fill these words.

“Good thing I’m no human then.” Angela replied, weaving a spell around her to protect her against foreign magic before taking the outstretched hand into her own, flinching a little at the could touch: “See? No harm done.”

The frost sprite looked surprised, the colour of her eyes turning a warmer hue of blue, instantly being overshadowed by the pain shooting through her body, leaving her heavily breathing sunken against the tree.

“We need to get you to a bed. I need to clean that wound before treating it.”

“It’s getting too warm too fast. I- “she tried standing up: “-ugh- I need to get to colder regions, higher up the mountains.”

Pushing her down gently but determined, Angela pulled her hand away from the arrow in her side, inspecting the wound it caused closely: “With that you are dead the day after tomorrow if we don’t treat it.” She opened a small bag at her belt, taking tongs from them: “That’s going to hurt- “she said, cutting the arrow in half: “I don’t have the means of treating you here. My house isn’t far away. Please come with me.

“I really can’t. It- “a strangled moan interrupted her as Angela pulled the arrow from her body, pressing a ball of cloth against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“I’m not discussing this with you! You come with me and let my safe your life!”

Tying a bandage around her waist, keeping the cloth in place and pressed on the wound, she stood up, pulled one arm of the frost sprite around her shoulder, helping her stand up: “I’m Angela by the way.” 

“Fareeha… Thank you”

She was taller and heavier than Angela had expected and unable to walk by herself, but Angela had carried soldiers of the battlefield and hunters down into the valley so she was used to it.

The way back was short but she was worried about the amount of blood Fareeha had already lost and was still losing. Her legs seemed to grow weaker with every step and her breathing became shorter and more forced by the second and by the time they had reached her home Fareeha was only held up by Angelas arms, struggling to keep conscious.

Creaking the door to her house swung open, welcoming her to her warm living room, filled with the smell of dried herbs and flowers. The way across the room to her bedroom in the back seemed endless and they didn’t reach it a second too early. Angela sat Fareeha down on the bed, helping her to lie down. A silent: “Thank you~” was all Fareeha could muster before she slipped into unconsciousness. 

Hastily, Angela gathered her herbs, putting a kettle on the stove for hot water next to the one that was always there and which she used to cook the bandages. She would need to inspect the arrow later since the wound was unusually large and deep for just one simple arrow but for now she needed to stop the bleeding.

Her scissors cut through the fabric of Fareehas cloths, revealing the still bleeding injury in its entire gruesomeness. The wound was deep, the arrow had penetrated her side, ripping her flesh and skin apart like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Pulling a chair and the kettle with the hot water up next to the bed she started cleaning the wound, removing shards of the arrow head from Fareehas body, dropping them in a bowl before she started sewing back together what force had ripped apart, weaving a little magic into it to help the body regenerate faster, closing the blood vessels to completely stop the bleeding. 

Her main concern wasn’t the injury. It would heal quickly and after two to three weeks Fareeha would be able to walk around like nothing had ever happened. What worried her most was the amount of blood Fareeha had lost. Angela wasn’t familiar with the physiology of winter sprites or any spirits at that and only time would tell if normal healing and blood building methods would help her.

The minute the injury was closed and bandaged, the bleeding stopped. Angela felt a weight lifting of her chest, taking a deep breath, sinking back into her chair, her fingers aching from the strain she had put them under, still tingling with a little rest of magic. It had been decades since she last treated a battle wound. After the last great human war, she had retreated here to live her life in peace, away from battlegrounds, mourning families and the corrupted and abused magic that had been used during the wars.

Standing up she started cleaning the bloody mess the treatment had produced. The dark blue blood turned clear as it dried and into something ice like. Only the presence of Fareeha stopped Angela from filling a bottle with it for research. Maybe she’d have a chance for it later. 

She would need to find some clothes for Fareeha since the bloody shreds on the ground wouldn’t do for much of anything. Fareeha was a good head taller than her and it was questionable if any of her cloths would fit her but it was worth a try. 

Burning the rest of the bloody bandages and cloth, Angela slumped back on her sofa, leaving Fareeha to sleep in her room. Leaning back into the cushions she relaxed her muscles, closed her eyes and let a deep sigh escape her. The familiar smell of herbs and flowers surrounded her, calming her mind and leaving her thoughts room to wander.

What was a frost sprite doing so low in the valley? Angela had seen them only between November and January but never later. Despite that she wasn’t aware of any human made weapons that could hurt a sprite, despite humans having no use of sprites. They were protectors of the forces of nature and nature itself, helpful to lost wanderers and never hostile to anyone who travelled in peace. 

Angela stood up, grabbing the remains of the arrow she had placed on the table, inspecting it. There were remains of magic around it, one that was familiar to her but she couldn’t quite place her finger on it. But it was definitely meant to do harm to magical creatures and if a human would have been hit or even grazed by it he would have most likely died within seconds. But other than the magic traces its components were normal wood and metal, expertly crafted but nothing one couldn’t find in any well-equipped weapon chamber. Pulling out a small box she placed it inside, sealing it off, just in case anyone would want to trace the arrow. She would have to ask Fareeha about it.

She sat back down, removing her shoes, stretching her feet. Fareeha wasn’t wrong of course. She would need to get to a colder climate and soon or she- well… what? Would she die? Angela never heard of a Frost Sprite dying because of a too warm climate or any of the sorts. As far as she knew it made them really uncomfortable to be out of their own element. Fareeha would need to answer that too as soon as she was awake.

Lying down on the sofa she stared at the ceiling, the ceiling staring back at her. Hopefully Fareeha would wake up the next day. If not, she would have serious trouble keeping her alive with the amount of blood she had lost and only limited possibilities to give Fareeha blood building food without the knowledge if a sprite could eat at all. The danger of accidentally harming her was too great to risk it. Her eyes traced the lines in the wood, following it along the planks her house was made of. She had done all she could to keep Fareeha the sprite alive and that would be enough she promised herself before closing her eyes, the crackling of the fire lulling her into a deep sleep.

 

❅✴❅

 

The first rays of sun woke Angela from her dreams. Stretching her arms, she sat up, letting her eyes wander across the room. The fire had succumbed to glowing ashes hours ago, keeping the room warm and her herbs dry overnight. Tying her hair up in a new ponytail she tiptoed across the room into her bathroom.

Removing her clothes, she turned on the water. It was ice cold coming from a mountain spring but enough to get her clean. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the feeling of the cold pearls running over her skin. Taking a shower was the best feeling in the world and there didn’t go a day by where she wasn’t happy that some person had invented them. 

Her eyes sprung open. She had left Fareeha in a warm room next to a room with a fire place! She still didn’t know how frost sprites reacted to heat and a complete night in warmth was a big risk.  
Cursing she ran out of the shower, hair dripping wet, putting on her clothes, slamming the door to the bedroom open, eyes searching for the frost sprite.   
The bed was empty, sheets tossed and wet. Had she melted? Angela couldn’t believe that she would have accidentally killed the sprite. A cold breeze played with her hair, the icy air almost instantly freezing her wet hair tips. She turned, running to the open window, leaning out of it, searching for footsteps, a body, anything that would show her that the sprite was alright.

A snowflake twirled through the air, landing on her nose tip, melting the instant it touched her skin. The ground in front of her window was frozen, Fareeha leaning against a rock, snowflakes twirling and dancing around her hand, following her fingers movements. Her skin had lost the grey hue and had turned a pale violet. 

She looked up, seeing a breathless, dripping wet Angela leaning out of the window: “Good morning” she stood up, coming towards the window: “Sorry if I’ve startled you. It’s been unbearably warm inside.”

Angela slumped on the ledge of the window, her heart beating too fast for her own good, still relieved, that she hadn’t killed her. 

“Are you alright?”

Fareeha had come up to her, examining her saviours face: “examining her saviours face: “You look very pale for a human or have you changed in the last years?” “I’m fine” Angela replied, a little breathless: “How are you up again?”

“I regenerated” Fareeha pointed to her side. The bandages had been removed, the wound was covered in what seemed a thin sheet of glittering ice and much smaller than it had been the day before: “You removed the magic that suppressed my bodies healing abilities and for that I owe you.”

“Aha- “was all Angela could muster, inspecting the healing wound. The speed of the regeneration was impressive. “May I?” she asked, reaching out her hand, her fingertips touching the cold skin. It seemed to be colder than yesterday but not stinging like ice but like a soft snow blanket. It was amazing, the skin glistened where she touched it, silvery lights playing under it where the muscles moved.

“Stop it!”

Fareeha backed away, getting out of Angelas reach: “Your magic seems to have worn off.” She said, pointing to Angelas finger tips which had started to turn blue. Angela blinked, it felt like waking up from a trance as she breathed in her hands, warming them up again, renewing the spell protecting her. “I probably should use a talisman against this or this could get very annoying”, she joked, smiling at the frost sprite.

“This won’t be permanent. Now that I am healed and rested I plan on leaving. I only stayed to say goodbye and thank you.” Fareeha said, shaking her head slightly.

“I can’t keep you here- “Angela agreed: “But whatever or whoever shot you, aimed for the kill or at least for a capture.” A cold breeze ruffled through her hair, reminding her that she was only half dressed and still wet despite her hair that slowly turned into icicles. “Could we continue this inside? It’s easier for me to create a cold spot instead of warming one up.” Fareeha nodded.

Soon they sat down in the living room, Angela finally dressed, Fareeha dressed in the best she could find. It didn’t seem to matter to her weather she was dressed or not and was more a cultural thing apparently than anything else. Angela crossed her legs, turning the arrowhead in her hands: “So again, you have no idea who shot you?”  
Fareeha sat across from her, leaned back in a chair, a necklace around her neck, keeping her cold.

“No.”

“And you don’t know why he or she shot you?”

“No.”

“And you don’t remember where you were when you were shot?”

“Yes.”

“Because of the magic of this messing with your senses?”

“Yes.”

Angela sight, leaning back into her cushions, watching the light reflecting of the cold metal: “And you are sure there is no war I’ve been missing going on between anyone?”

“Yes.”

“And nobody is preparing for a war?”

“No.” Fareeha crossed her arms: “Do humans always need threefold certification of something before they believe it or is that just you?” she asked, amusement in her voice.

Angela gave her an annoyed glare. Placing the arrow back in its box: “Is it safe if you travel back alone?”   
“With this I am safe” Fareeha tapped on the amulet: “It’s amazing what you can do. Thank you.”  
Angela shrugged, her mind still occupied with the arrow. Maybe it was a hunter for rare materials or a soldier protecting something but there was no reason for such a specialised arrow to shoot it just at a random target. They were too expensive in their production, or had been the last time Angela had taken notice of such things, which – all things considered – had been a while.

“Aren’t you the least bit curious?” Angela looked up: “Someone shot you, out of the sky, on your way home. You nearly died and only survived by chance and are just going to go home?” she felt the anger rising up at someone being so indifferent to what happened to them.

“Angela” Fareehas voice was calm: “I am eternal grateful for what you have done, but I am a protector to my people. It is not in my intentions to search for revenge but to protect my people and bring justice if needed.”

Angela decided, not to answer that and instead change the topic: “I’d like to ask you to stay here at least for a couple of days, just to make sure, that the magic of the arrow won’t have any lasting effects on you.” She raised a hand to silence Fareehas protest: “I’m not asking for a week. Only three days. After that, you can keep the amulet to get home safely.”

Fareeha took a deep breath, waging the pros and cons of that request before coming to a conclusion: “Fine. Since I owe you my life, I might as well not waste that gift you gave me.”

“Thank you.”


	2. The ghost of days past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and hopefully updating my works a little more regular now. I hope the wait wasn't too long  
> Thanks for staying with me :3

The way down into the village was marked by flowers courageously fighting against the snow and cold left and right of the path she always took. Angela had left Fareeha back in her home. As much as the villagers appreciated Angela for her skill she wasn’t sure how they would react to any… creature less human looking than a witch. 

She heard the children far before she saw them, running through the few leftovers of snow. The valley was much warmer than the hills, even at the beginning of the wood and the children used that as an excuse to run around in less than appropriate cloths for the weather, screaming and laughing coming towards her as they spotted her.

“ANGELA!” screamed a little girl, running in a mixture of summer dress and other cloth towards her, her mother probably very proud about having dressed her child somewhat warm all while complying to the wishes of her daughter.

Angela smiled, kneeling down, stretching her arms out to welcome the girl, followed by two young boys, knocking her hat off, laughing and hugging her, asking her how the days have been and if she brought the sparkles again. The sparkles were small balloons filled with snowflakes and a little magic to make them explode into glittering fireworks when thrown and of course Angela had brought them with her.

Accompanied by the children, the boys pulling her by her hands towards the small houses, the girl running around with her hat on her head, Angela made her way towards the small houses, past the fields. Some of the adults came to greet her, Angela handing out promised medicine and potions, receiving freshly baked bread, some winter apples and even a flower bouquet made of snowdrops. 

Making her way through the village she was followed by laughter, greetings and an occasional hug before she reached the blacksmiths forgery, a huge wooden sign hanging over the door, labelling it as such. She left the children behind, giving up all hopes on seeing her hat again before she would leave the village to go home again, and entered the house.

Even in winter, the room was filled with heat the cold couldn’t do anything against, the banging of a hammer on metal sounding through the large room, glowing sparks fleeting through the air before cooling down to black ash. Angela set her basket aside, entering the gleaming hell that was the air around the main forge.

A huge man stood there, working the metal, his muscles moving under his arms with every move, sweat glistening on his skin, dark scars running over his arms and upper body, telling tales of long forgotten wars and fought battles. He seemed to have noticed her presence but didn’t look up until he finished the piece he was working on, setting it aside in a water basin, the steam engulfing his enormous figure.

“Angela. It’s nice to see you again. How was your winter?” a deep voice asked through the white veil. “Fine.” She answered, leaning against a table, waiting for the steam to completely dissolve: “It’s good to see you doing well Rein.” “The last years have been good to me” the white-haired man answered, wiping his bearded face with a dirty towel: “Tom has some new horses that survived the winter and need shoes made and I the next village is building their own watermill and gave me the job for every metal related item. But that’s not what you came to talk about-“ he said, watching her face: “What is it?”

Angela smiled. He knew her too well. Her hand searched her pocket, finding the little case with the arrow head handing it to Reinhardt: “I have treated… someone who was shot down by this. Know that style?” Reinhardt took the box from her, opening it, taking the small arrow head between his big fingers, twisting and turning it, inspecting it closely: “What exactly was shot down with it? A fairy?” “A sprite.” Reinhard raised an eyebrow: “And it is still alive? Lucky sprite. This thing is made to kill.” He placed it on anvil, walking to the back of the room, all while talking: “This is made like the old ones from the golden wars. I haven’t seen one since- well.” He returned, a giant hammer in his hands, almost as huge as himself and definitely larger than Angela: “You may want to step back.”

Angela did as told, weaving a spell to protect her against whatever may come, just in time as Reinhardt swung down the massive weapon, sparks flying across the room, a small shockwave pushing tables and smaller tools away, sweeping them off their racks. He placed the hammer on the ground, inspecting the smoking dent left in the anvil, his hands taking the unharmed arrowhead from the now useless metal piece.

“Well, no metal can withstand this and judging by the dent it was forged with magic.” Reinhard tossed the small head to Angela: “Look at the glow slowly vanishing. I’m not sure what exactly it was but despite being forged with magic it had some kind of spell on it. It’s broken now and with it its protection against detection. You should be able to identify it.” He leaned back, watching Angela putting the small thing back into the box and her pocket, correcting her previous assumption of it being just well made.

“Want to tell me what you have been up to?” Angela looked up, meeting Reinhardts questioning gaze. “Up until now I thought I have been caring for a hurt sprite. Not sure if I am still only doing that?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize that magic.” Angela indeed had the feeling, that she knew the flow in it, clean and unusual steady for magic but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.  
“Has it been that long already, that you forgot about her?” Reinhardts voice got darker, coloured with old grief. 

Angelas eyes widened as she realized, what he tried to tell her: “But why would she shoot down a sprite? What does she want with it? I thought she was dead!” Her voice reached new heights with every word, her mind frantically working. “Doesn’t look like it.” Reinhardt pointed to the concealed case in her pocket: “If that is any indication, she is and has been alive for the past 500 years.” Angela paled at the thought of that, grabbing her basket: “I need to go.” Reinhardt nodded, following her hasty steps out of the door.

“Just don’t get involved in this” was the last she heard before nearly running through the village, leaving him behind, storming past the fields, only taking the time to wave shortly at the villagers before she made her way back to her little hut.

The way seemed longer than it should have been, the sun starting to set behind the mountain tops in the distance, long shadows crawling through the valley, grasping after her feet, slowing her steps as it got harder to walk the uneven path. Finally, she arrived at her hut, heavily breathing, her hair coming undone, hanging wildly over her back and shoulders. Throwing the door open she dropped the basket, running through the empty room: “FAREEHA!” she called out, pushing the door to her bedroom open. 

It lay empty. Her heart beat loud and fast in her chest as she grew more worried and scared by the second. Soft steps on the floor made her turn around, ready to attack and kill if necessary whatever intruder came to her home and took her sprite away. Her hands, previously cramped into claws, relaxed as she saw Fareeha in the doorway, dripping wet and naked, standing there, looking a little puzzled.

“I’m sorry did I do something wrong?” she asked, the amulet around her neck gleaming in an icy blue, keeping her cold while the heat of the fireplace dried her hair. Her skin had turned from the pale violet to light blue which weirdly seemed a healthy colour for her. Angela sank down on the bed, her hands sunken in her lap, shaking slightly. 

Fareeha watched the small human in front of her. How could she be so pale. A little unsure, she got on her knees in front of her, taking her shaking hands in her own: “Is everything alright?” She felt the amulet emitting a light pulse as it protected Angela from her cold touch. Angela nodded, taking deep breaths, before answering: “How old are you?” 

Fareeha raised an eyebrow in surprised but still was willing to answer: “About 320 years give or take. It’s not like we really age so we don’t exactly keep count.” Angela remembered something about that vaguely.   
But with Fareeha being so young it made nothing for an explanation. The golden wars had ended way before her time. As should have ended the life of her. 

“I’m asking again, are you alright?” Fareeha asked, her blue eyes showing worry. She had taken a liking to this human and being finally able to touch other creatures without being their death was far beyond anything she could have dreamed for. Seeing her like this, unfocused and afraid made her uneasy.

Angela tried to calm her racing heart, Fareehas cool hands around hers strangely comforting her.   
“Have you heard of the golden wars?”   
Fareeha nodded, standing up, pulling a blanket from the bed, throwing it around the shivering human: “It was before my time. Thank the gods. I only know the stories”

Angela laughed, a silent, forced sound: “The legendary tales of powerful mages sending off their great knights to slay dragons and rescue faire maidens or the ones told around the campfires at night in a hushed voice when only the monsters listen?” “A little of both I take it. Most I heard of a bard coming through the pass, singing his songs for company and protection.” “Then you know the glorified leftovers of one of the most gruesome wars ever fought.”

Angelas gaze grew distant as the memories of the old days came back. The days when she had been one of those praised mages. Before her.

The sunrise on that day was one of the most beautiful she had ever seen. The sun was a golden orb, slowly raising into a pink and orange sky, illuminating the clouds, turning them into liquid gold. She sat on a small hill, surrounded by tents, her gaze wandering over the crests of the many houses who followed the kings call. 

Her chest tightened at the thought of some of these houses ending on this battlefield, sons and daughters lost to either arms or words of the enemy, families being ripped apart by treachery and death, one often followed by the other. She shivered as a cold breeze ruffled her hair, blowing over her naked arms. 

“You can’t bring them back by freezing to death yourself.” A warm blanket got wrapped around her, followed by dark, slender arms. “Maybe I can” Angela mumbled, leaning back into her loves arms, closing her eyes: “I am so close. I healed every soldier, child and bystander. No one has died under my care for a month and more. If I just get-“ “You don’t mess with the dead.” Satyas voice was quiet but firm. They had had this conversation thousands of times already, at least once a day. 

“Its against the natural order of things.” Angela nodded, as she always did when Satya came to that point. Her thoughts wandering, adjusting the flow of magic and life, intertwining them, reconstructing them until it was something different but the same all together. “I can do it.” She whispered to herself, leaning further back into Satyas embrace, watching the sun rise higher up into the sky.

The sound of a horn let her jump up, Satya following way more elegant but no less tense: “They are here.” “And they are too early.”   
Angela nearly flew down the hill, leaving Satya behind. They would meet up later she needed to reach the council before the army marched up. 

The next time she saw Satya she was already on her horse, clad in her battlearmour, leading her mages and part of the knights to the left of their army. Satya joined their ranks a little further away, giving her an encouraging smile and a small wave before both directed their attention towards the approaching masses standing against the horizon. 

Angela felt her fingers clenching around the reigns as the horn sounded through the sound of clattering armour, horses and humans starting to shout and scream alike, the first row starting to move towards the enemies lines. Her horse soon started to fall into a fast galop, following the first line closely, the screaming and shouting of human and animals fading to a buzzing sound in the back of her head as the two armies clashed against each other.

Angela couldn’t tell what happened after the first clash, the screams of angry, fighting and dying men mixing into a symphony of sorrow and pain. A missed arrow penetrated thee armour of her horse, the animal screaming in pain before its legs gave wave, Angela jumping away from the dying body just in time to not be buried under it. 

Pain shot up her leg as she landed, falling to the ground, ducking away under a sword hauled at her, bringing up her staff, blocking the following attack. The knight in front of her had lost his helmet, his face covered in blood, being his own or somebody else’s she could not judge, eyes only two black holes, burning with hatred. 

This time she couldn’t bring her staff up in time, the shining blade hacking her staff in two, slicing through her armour, only an inch away from her skin. Raising his weapon one last time he stood over her, a gruesome smile appearing on his lips as he swung down on her. 

A flash of white and white pierced his chest, his upper body exploding from the force. He didn’t have enough time to look surprised as he sunk down, the sword slipping out of his dead hands.  
“Are you alright?” Satya helped her up, the battle still raging around them but for the second they had room to breath. “I’m fine.” Angela staggered to her feet, her leg still hurting but she would be fine. They needed to get away from the fighting, back to the ranks of healers and priests, before-

WATCH OUT

She felt Satya pushing her to the ground, before a sharp pain exploded in the back of her head, turning her world dark.

Smoke covered the sky, hiding the sun, draining the colour out of the sky and the world around her. Angela had to blink a few times, before she sat up, a crow flapping his wings disapproving of its meal being still alive. Her head hurt and her view seemed a bit blurred, the smoke burning in her eyes. The ground gave way under her searching hands, soaked in blood and things she didn’t want to inspect too closely.

Her blood froze as her hands found a body, her eyes trying to focus on it. It was only a fallen knight, she told herself. There had to be thousands of dead bodies on this field, enemies as friends. It didn’t need to mean anything. She rubbed her eyes, trying to get to see more clearly, the fog of dirt and smoke burning in her eyes. 

The ground under her hands had turned into a small puddle. She brought her hand up to her face, watching the dark blood run down her light skin, almost disinterested in the thick liquid, a voice screaming in the back of her head, begging to wake up, but her lips were pressed tight, not willing to let any sound escape them. Turning her gaze away from her bloodied hand she tried to identify the body lying in front of her.

Her chest tightened painfully as she recognized the black hair, spread across the ground like a dark sun, tangled and shining wet of blood. Oh please oh please oh please no the voice screamed.  
She tried calling out but managed only a hoarse whisper, smoke and tears getting caught in her throat, mixing into the taste of pain and fear and blood.

It hurt turning the body around, the time seemingly slowing down, still praying to be wrong, to somehow be mistaken, to be caught in a nightmare and wake up every second. She felt tears rolling down her cheeks, landing on Satyas opened lips, eyes closed, her black hair falling in her face, leaving bloody streaks on her cheeks. It seemed like she was sleeping weren’t it for the deep wound across her upper body, black blood had soaked her armour or what was left of it and the ground around her like a carped of red and black velvet. 

Angelas hands clawed into the ripped fabric still covering her shoulders, pulling Satya up into her arms, her limb body being unusual heavy, her head rolling back, Angelas tears leaving shimmering drops on her dark skin, mixing with the blood. Burying her face in Satyas hair she started sobbing, voiceless cries of pain leaving her lips, only answered by the calls of the crows and the iron silence of Satyas cold lips.

Let her still be alive. Oh gods please. Don’t take her away from me. 

“Ange- la” Angela looked up, Satyas eyes opened, only slightly, her eyes fogged, unable to focus, starring into the distance. “I’m here” she whispered, her voice silent and hoarse, a small flame of hope kindling up in her chest, warming her, the magic pouring out of her, dancing around Satyas chest, streams of pale yellow, weak and thin. It wasn’t enough, she needed more.

Satyas hand was cold against her tearstruck cheek: “Stop… it. You will- “ she stopped, weakly coughing, blood running over her lips: “too weak.” “No.” Angela cried, the flow of magic leaving her body but she could see it had close to no effect on Satyas wound: “Don’t tell me to stop. I will safe you.”

Satya chuckled, interrupted by a cough, her eyes still trying to fixate on Angela: “Love… you”

The world seemed to shatter with the sound of breaking glass as she realized Satya had stopped breathing, her heart pounding painfully in her chest, she felt her magic running out of her fingertips, uselessly pearling of Satya. She heard a pained scream, realizing it was her who made that sound full of sorrow and pain. Her arms wrapped around Satyas body, the last warmth leaving her body as she held her, crying, screaming and sobbing against her neck, begging the gods to bring her back, cursing them from taking her away.

She felt the stream of magic leaving her body, golden lights dancing around Satyas body, filling the wound with liquid gold, covering her in a magic shine. Words started forming on her lips, whispered, screamed, mumbled, desperate for an effect. Not enough. More… more! Almost! She felt the strength leaving her body but she couldn’t give up. She knew she could bring her back if she only could keep it up… If only… some more seconds… a last word…

Her world faded to black. No… One… last… the word left her lips like the whisper of a ghost before she sunk to the ground, Satyas still in her arms, the world fading again in a whirl of pain and darkness.

“I’m sorry. You must have loved her very much” Angela hadn’t realized she had started crying. Fareeha carefully wiping her tears away, cupping her reddened cheek before placing a soft kiss on her white skin, taking the pained heat from her face, replacing it with a soothing cold. Her heart was racing as if it had been yesterday. It took her a couple of deep breaths before she continued her story: “They found me and carried me back. The healers took care of me. When I woke up and asked they said I was alone, Satyas body was nowhere to be found.” She took another deep breath, her hands clutching around Fareehas cool fingers, searching for hold, rooting her in this world, scared to go back to the past again.

“It was moons before I saw her again. But…” she sobbed, Fareeha sitting next to her, wrapping her arms around her. “You don’t need to-“ “You need to know.” She leaned into Fareehas embrace, calming her breath: “I don’t know what happened that day on, the battlefield. Afterwards I was able to bring back all who died if I got to them in time.” “That’s a good thing? I’m sure you saved many families with your doing.” “I know” Angela nodded, leaning against Fareehas shoulder, closing her eyes: “but Satya… she came back and was… changed.” 

Angelas voice broke, her heart still aching, the memories ripping open old wounds she had thought healed: “She promised me to kill and destroy everything I held dear, killing my best friend in front of my eyes before leaving me alone and to die.” She looked up to the ceiling, Satyas face spooking in her head, her once warm brown eyes cold, filled with the deep red colour of blood. 

She tried to continue but her voice broke, Fareeha pulling her deeper into the embrace, holding her shivering body, wiping away the tears; “Tell me some time else” she whispered, turning Angelas face towards hers, placing a soft kiss on her lips, soothing and cool like a breeze on a hot summer day, quenching her tears.

Angela broke the kiss only reluctantly, but breathing seemed like the more important task at hand. “Sorry” Fareeha said, leaving her room to free her out of the embrace: “I forgot humans need more air than we do.” Angela gave her a small smile, that was all she was able to right now, Fareeha giving her a sense of security despite all that had happened, cuddling back into her embrace, closing her eyes, allowing her a little of warmth and love for the first time in years.


End file.
